


If It's Not Rough It Isn't Fun

by SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural Novels - Various
Genre: Avenging Charlie, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Dean Winchester, Battle, DEAN IS A BADASS, Date Night, F/M, Fistfight, Fluff, Kissing, Protective Dean Winchester, Punching, Sub Dean, bound and gagged dean, date, dean and reader kidnapped, flirtation, gunfight, reader is a badass, shackles, smut talk, styne's cousins - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop/pseuds/SupernaturalFlavoredLollipop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Request.<br/>You and Dean are trapped by the Moreaus, cousins of the Styne family, while out on a date.  After a heroic escape, the gag Dean forgot to remove from himself gives you some ideas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It's Not Rough It Isn't Fun

If It's Not Rough It Isn't Fun

 

_12:13 AM_

 

“ _Worst date ever._ ” You slid your eyes over to Dean, in the driver's seat of the Impala, wind blowing his hair. His shirt was ripped, a spray of blood across the front. His gun with the ivory handle sat on the seat beside him.

 

“It was pretty bad.” He agreed, shooting you a slightly apologetic look. “How was I supposed to know the Stynes had some cousins hanging around? I thought I wiped them all out.”

 

“Moreaus... That family is creepy as fuck...” You paused. “ _Was_ creepy as fuck.” Your eyes were still on Dean. They dropped from his face, down to his neck and the scrap of fabric that was tied haphazardly around it. A devious smile spread across your lips. He didn't fail to notice.

 

“What's _that_ look for?” He asked you, amused.

 

You reached over, untying the material from his collar. “You forgot to take off your gag.”

 

He chuckled. “I was a little busy annihilating every last motherfucker in the room.”

 

You let it dangle from your fingertips, then slipped in into your purse. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Why are you keeping it?”

 

You winked at him seductively. “For later. Call me crazy, but seeing you bust out of those restraints and gag was kind of hot. It might have given me some ideas.”

 

His grin widened, and he reached over and put a hand on your knee. “Okay then.” He looked smug, and continued driving.

* * *

 

_Three Hours Earlier_

 

You had no idea where you were. You had been out at a bar with Dean, and had gone to use the ladies room, when you'd been jumped. You were pretty sure someone had grabbed you from behind and used ether on you before you even had a chance to fight, because next thing you knew you were being dragged from a trunk and into a huge mansion. Three men were surrounding you, each one with a gun, which gave you second thoughts about causing a ruckus. If they hadn't been armed, you'd have tried your luck; however, getting shot wasn't high on your list of priorities.

 

Two of them, with thick Louisiana accents, dragged you down into a brightly lit basement, and chained your wrists to shackles that hung from the ceiling. _Who were these people? What kind of weirdos had shackles attached to their ceilings?_ Looking around, you saw that the whole room was creepy. Across from you was a table with leather straps. Past that was a cage. Past that was a curtain, and you _really_ didn't want to know what was beyond, but you were pretty sure the stains on the curtain were blood. You shuddered.

 

“He'll be after her in a few minutes. We'll have him.” One of the men said to the other.

 

“Why didn't we just kill him at the bar?” The other one asked.

 

“Because he's a Winchester. They're special. We could use a Winchester heart. And his head as a trophy after what he did to our cousins.” The first one looked at the second like he was a moron. “Plus, we try to keep a low profile, Kyle.”

 

“How's he gonna know who took her?” Kyle wondered aloud.

 

The first man rolled his eyes. He clearly didn't like babysitting Kyle. “I dropped my business card when we took her. I have it covered. Jesus.” He turned to the third man. “Dale, take care of her. I'm going to go round up the troops. After what happened at the Styne house, we need to be prepared.”

 

“Yes sir.” The third man had his gun trained on you. The first man left, Kyle trailing after him. Dale turned to you. He looked you up and down. “Tonight was not your lucky night, lady,” he stated bluntly.

 

“No shit.” You looked at him tartly. “Don't suppose I could convince you to let me out? I barely know Dean Winchester. And I didn't even get to finish my appetizer.”

 

“Not gonna happen.”

 

“That's pretty fucked up that you nabbed me before I finished my mozzarella sticks.”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“Dead serious. That shit was good. And what kind of degenerate grabs a girl on her way to the bathroom and knocks her out?”

 

“I'm not a degenerate.” Dale was getting pissed. You were hoping he'd get close enough for you to get a good kick in. Get a good fight going so Dean could sneak in. You knew it was a stupid plan but from where you stood, you were as good as dead. Anyone named “Moreau” had to be bad news, especially if they were cousins with the Stynes.

 

“Only fucking cavemen drag women out of bars.” You glared at him. “Ass hat cavemen who can't. Get. It. Up.” You braced yourself for an attack. “Dean's gonna come and he's going to murder you, just like he did your idiot cousins. If I don't take care of your hillbilly ass first.”

 

Dale was pissed. His face was red. He ran at you, screaming, gun drawn. “I can get it up! You bitch!” You swung yourself up, hanging from the shackles, and got a good kick in, right across the face. You were surprised when it didn't knock him out. _Shit_. You'd forgotten, these assholes were basically superhuman. Bad move. He rallied, clocking you across the side of the head with the butt of his gun. _Lights out_.

 

* * *

You didn't know how long it had been, but when you came to, you weren't alone in the basement. You were now hanging from the shackles on the ceiling by your wrists, and your shoulders ached something fierce. As your vision cleared, you saw a figure strapped to the table. It was Dean.

 

“Dean!” You whispered. He turned towards you, a look of relief on his face that you were conscious. He was about to say something when the door at the top of the stairs opened and an elderly man approached, followed by eight young men, all with guns. _You were fucked. Totally and completely fucked. There was no way either of you were getting out of this alive._

 

“Winchester.” The man said, standing near the table. “I've been looking for you for a while. You're a difficult man to find.”

 

“I prefer just to be called a 'difficult man', but whatever you say, chief.” Dean smiled up at the man. “So the cousin of the scumbag Styne family is a guy named Moreau. Fitting.”

 

“We choose our monikers well.” The grey haired man straightened his tie.

 

“Tell me, Mr. Moreau, do you like sheep?” Dean asked him flatly.

 

“Watch your tone, boy.” Moreau was not amused.

 

“So what's the deal? Your family sure seems to like tying people to tables and playing Operation.”

 

“You killed my cousin's family. All of them.” Moreau picked up a scalpel. “That sort of thing doesn't go over well in this neck of the woods.”

 

“Your cousin's family killed one of my best friends. In cold blood.” Dean spat back. You could see rage rising in his eyes. Mark or no Mark, he was no stranger to rage. “That kind of thing doesn't go over well in _my_ neck of the woods.”

 

“An entire family for one worthless girl?”

 

Fire burned in Dean's eyes. “One worthless girl? _That girl did more than you could ever know_.” He steeled himself. “What did you ever do? Have some weird ass book written about you? Do sick experiments on animals? I don't see any women around your mansion, Moreau. Tell me, _did you replace them with barnyard animals you sick bastard_?”

 

Moreau had had enough. “Kyle, gag him. I'm done listening to his sad attempts at banter.”

 

“I'll kill all of you, too, Moreau.”

 

Moreau shook his head as Kyle tied a fabric gag tightly around Dean's mouth. “We seem to be at an impasse. However, you also seem to be at a disadvantage.” Moreau motioned to Dale. “Dale, bring the girl. We'll take care of her first.”

 

“Hey wait, I have nothing to do with this.” You shot Dean a look, trying to argue with them and buy him some time. Dale unshackled you and pushed you roughly towards Moreau. “Trust me, you don't want to kill me.”

 

“I don't care if I kill you, not in the slightest.” Moreau looked at you like you were insignificant.

 

“You're gonna set him off. Even without the Mark that's a bad idea.” You warned. “And to be honest, if you try to kill me, you're gonna set _me_ off and I'll take at least one of you with me.”

 

Moreau laughed. “I'm sure.” He turned once again to Dale. “Execute her. Then get ready to remove Mister Winchester's heart from his body. I could use another one. And hang his head over our fireplace.”

 

Dale pushed you roughly into a kneeling position.

 

You took a deep breath.

 

That's when all hell broke loose.

 

You were facing Dale, which was unfortunate for Dale because at the last second, you punched him as hard as you could in the nuts, simultaneously batting the gun from his hand with your other arm and dropping to the floor, rolling under the table Dean was secured to. As you rolled, you saw out of the corner of your eye, Dean somehow fly off of the table. He no longer had the Mark or the super strength it had given him; but the rage coursing through his veins, combined with the no doubt old leather straps, and the strength from adrenaline, caused him to be able to break free like a damned superhero. He swung himself over the side, ripping the gag down from his mouth, one boot landing a solid blow across old man Moreau's face. He landed in a crouch, grabbed the gun you'd knocked from Dale (who was on the ground holding his balls in a fetal position), shot two of the men rapid-fire before they even knew what had happened, then ducked under the table with you, knocking it over to provide cover.

 

“Nice nut shot.” He said over his shoulder, peeking over the table and taking out another junior Moreau.

 

“Thanks.” You crouched helplessly. You had no gun, there wasn't much you could do. And you'd counted... You hoped Dean didn't miss because he had exactly enough bullets in his gun to take out the armed men in the room, no more. And that didn't count Moreau, who would no doubt grab a gun.

 

Dean moved quickly, his muscles taut, rising, shooting, crouching once again. He dispatched every gunman in the room, until you knew there was only one man left. Moreau. And Dean's gun was empty.

 

“Well played, son. But I have something you don't.” Moreau's voice floated over the edge of the table at you.

 

“A gun, huh?” Dean shot back.

 

“A few of them.”

 

“I have something you don't have, as it turns out.” Dean smirked to himself. You gave him a questioning look. You were pretty sure you were both dead.

 

Moreau's footsteps pounded across the floor. He pushed the table out of the way, leveling the gun at Dean. “And what's that?” He wiped blood from his mouth.

 

The room lit up suddenly, and Moreau was grabbed from behind by a dark haired man in a trench coat.

 

“I have a fucking _Angel_.” Dean stood, staring the old man down.

 

Castiel made a quick motion, snapping Moreau's neck. He fell to the ground, motionless.

 

You all three surveyed the damage. Dean looked at Cas. “Thanks man. I wasn't sure you'd hear me.”

 

“I always hear you, Dean.”

* * *

 

_12:30 AM_

 

“Maybe I can have a rain check on that date?” Dean asked, pulling his Impala up in front of your motel. You looked over at him, feeling in your bag for your room key. Your fingers skimmed the fabric of the gag. You looked up at him seductively.

 

“I'd like for you to take me out again, yeah.” You smiled. You pulled the gag back out of your purse. “But, you know, if you're feeling adventurous... the night's not over yet.”

 

Dean grinned the widest grin you'd ever seen, his green eyes lighting up. He bolted out of the car, extracted you out of your side, and pulled you by the hand to your motel room, hot with anticipation. You opened the door, and he pushed you inside, up against the wall, kissing you hard on the mouth. “This is the best possible outcome of being kidnapped by psychos and almost killed,” he whispered gruffly into your ear.

 

“You're seriously going to let me gag and dominate you?”

 

“Hell yes I am. If you think that's hot, I'm all yours.”

 

You smiled wickedly and closed the motel door behind you.

 

_Carry on my wayward son..._

 

 

 

 


End file.
